Becoming A Burner
by Zinfer
Summary: Mike's transition from a cadet in Kane's army to a Burner was not a smooth one. Now completely alone in a world where nothing is free and where everyone is distrustful of a former enemy, he faces a tough battle just to survive.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I hope that some of my readers are also fans of Motorcity. This fic will follow Mike Chilton's journey to becoming the Mike we know in the series, starting immediately after he discharged himself as a cadet._

**Becoming a Burner**

Mike Chilton was a man of action. Self doubt and hesitation never held a candle to his unquenched proactivity when faced with tough decisions or fearful situations.

Never had he depended on that instinctive decisiveness moreso than now as the building around him began to cave in on itself with each strike of the demolition cube. There was no time to contemplate the complete paradigm flip he'd just gone through regarding his purpose in life, and to do so would mean to risk the lives of the individuals still inside.

People's lives were in danger; it was as simple as that. No matter how confused or lost he now was as an individual, he never doubted his responsibility to help people in need. That was why he was currently dodging falling slabs of concrete and covering his eyes from the chips of exploding debris coming from every direction.

Thinking strategically, he'd rushed to the top floor, yelling as he went for everyone to get out as quickly as possible. Why hadn't they been evacuated beforehand? There was no reason for this to become a hostile situation.

No. He had enough questions to last a lifetime and now wasn't the time to be asking.

"Get out! Now!" Kicking a door in he saw a man rushing to the out with a child in his arms calling for his wife to hurry as she stuffed a bag with their belongings.

"There's no time for that" Mike growled, grabbing her bag from her and tossing it out of the nearest window "this building won't last but another minute. Now run!"

They didn't argue, dashing out as quickly as their legs could carry them. Mike noted the way the father covered his little daughter with his arms, as well as the fear in the mother's eyes. He'd never seen people act that way before. His life had been filled with peace and tranquility up to that point and it shook him to see such raw panic firsthand.

No time for that. No time for thinking, only action.

Relieved to see that the majority of residents were already rushing to the stairs, Mike quickly glanced into each room as he followed after them. Another blow was struck to the crumbling building, knocking everyone off their feet. Several people shouted in panic.

"Just keep moving everyone!" Mike yelled, using his authoritative tone he had expected to only use on soldiers for the rest of his life. "Staying put will only put you in more danger!"

Down to the third floor they rushed, Mike taking up the rear in case anyone fell behind or were trampled in the panicked stampede. He had just reached the second floor when the building was struck again, this time the entire east wing began to collapse, the roar of crumbling rock and screeching metal deafened him. Broken glass and rock showered down from above, along with a massive cloud of sawdust.

He was just wondering if he would survive before the entire place collapsed when he heard horrified wailing down the hallway where the east wing had once stood.

"Oh no" he gasped, realizing that there had still been people in there.

Desperate not to have blood on his hands, he charged back from where he had been fleeing seconds before. Something struck his head hard, blurring his vision for an instant, but he was too pumped with adrenaline for it to slow him down. More debris fell but he was undeterred, calling out for the victim he had heard.

The voice didn't reply to his calls but the cries didn't waver so he had no trouble bee-lining it to the room where he needed to be.

What met his eyes hit him harder than any physical blow. A child with bright red hair was scream-crying beside his mother who lay unmoving beneath a massive pile of rubble and furniture from the demolished room above.

Skidding to her side, his heart pumping a mile a minute he brushed the hair out of her eyes to see that they were open and unseeing. Horror caught hold of him, freezing him where he sat as the walls of the building crumbled around him much like his world was tearing apart at that moment.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this" he whispered out, his tears joining those of the kid beside him. "We're supposed to bring safety to the people here. Liberate them from their harmful society. I didn't… How could-"

It was the ceiling that snapped him out of his stunned state of mind as it slammed into him from above. The blow sent him to a prone position on the dirty floor, the massive slab of rubble mercifully tumbling off of him after doing its damage.

Gasping from surprise and pain, his instinctive protectiveness kicked into gear again and he was suddenly on his feet again. Grabbing the kid with his large hands he charged out of the room just as the rest of the floors above it gave up their fleeting battle to remain above them.

"Moooom" the kid cried, weakly struggling against his grip, but the brunette hardly heard him.

Multiple times he was hit by more falling bricks and debris and at one point he recalled striking into a protruding metal pipe but his survival instincts were stronger than his limited pain tolerance and before he was even conscious of its happening, they were out the back door.

He half expected the building to collapse the second he stepped out, but it didn't. Another three blows by the demolition cube did the trick, and by that time they were well out of the way.

Mike was still in a haze when he dropped the kid who didn't move from where he sat, staring blankly at the ruins of the building that had been his home just minutes before.

Needing to keep moving, Mike turned from the demoralizing view and made his way to the crowd of, now homeless, individuals. Some had managed to snag some of their belongings, but he saw too many who huddled together with nothing but each other to hold on to.

He wanted to direct them somewhere to go or give some comfort but if he was honest with himself he was probably more lost than they were. There was nothing he could offer. All of those years of training presented nothing for this situation and now all he could offer was a confused and lost man.

Wandering down to the small group, he sat down, not really in the crowd but near enough to be counted as one of them. He wasn't one of them though. He was an alien in a world he had crash landed into by surprise.

"Ok Mike, take this one step at a time" he thought as he rubbed the dust out of his hair.

As if to inform him which step came first, his hand brushed across a gash by his temple. All at once his injuries made themselves known: a variety of bruising along his back and arms and more importantly the injuries around his abdomen and ribs. Feeling the warm ooze of blood seeping down his shirt, he realized he'd received a serious wound from the pipe he'd had trouble with on that last run. He hurt, there was no denying that, but complaining or expecting sympathy from anyone would do no good. He was on his own.

"This is your fault!" he heard a child scream, turning his head to see the red-head he'd just saved. The kid had tear tracks running down his face but his expression had changed to bitter rage.

"You brought them here! You killed mom!"

He hadn't made the call. He wasn't to blame, but he could find no words to present in his defense. If the kid could blame him for anything it was for his ignorance.

"Silence child" an elderly man exclaimed, surprising the two in conflict "you cannot blame this man for what has happened."

"Shut up old man!" the kid shouted "I'll never forgive him!"

With that the boy threw a rock at the ex-commander and ran away. Where he was going, Mike couldn't venture a guess.

"The words of a child who needs someone to strike out at" the elderly man spoke as they watched the boy vanish into the darkness "don't take it to heart lad."

"How could this have happened?" Mike asked. He appreciated the man's non-condemning words, but they weren't necessary. He wasn't one to wallow in self-blame, the only guilt he was feeling was towards the respect he had had towards Kane up to that point.

"It happens all the time" the man replied, sadness hidden in his words.

"But why? Couldn't Kane just ask you to leave? Warn the residents that we were taking the building down."

"There was a time when the people of Motorcity were warned before deconstruction took place, but they refused to cooperate. They didn't have the manpower or machinery to oppose Kane's strong hand, so they fought by refusing to leave their homes. Not to be swayed by our protests, demolition went on as scheduled and soon they'd quit telling us at all."

Mike sat down, bringing a hand to his head, careful to avoid the gash on the side of his temple. It was a lot to take in.

"But why not just let us-… them destroy it? The plan is- was to clean out the lower district of Detroit and replace it with the clean and safe Deluxe. Why protest?"

The man let out a sad humorless chuckle. "I guess for someone like you our stubbornness wouldn't make sense. You've never tasted freedom so you wouldn't know the pain of losing it."

"What's so free about living in the slums? This world has presented you with nothing but decay and darkness. Sorry but I can't see what you'd miss by leaving here" Mike countered skeptically as he lifted his jacket to eye his injuries on his side.

"Individuality. Faith. The freedom to do stupid things and make dumb decisions."

As odd as it sounded, those concepts struck a chord with the discharged soldier, though he didn't know exactly why. He already had all of those things didn't he? Suddenly he felt that he hadn't.

"Perhaps you'll see what I mean if you stay down here a while" the man suggested.

"I don't think I have much of a choice at this point" Mike said satirically. "I dunno where I'm gonna go. I don't know anyone down here."

"Wish I could help you son" the elderly man replied, genuine concern in his voice "but seeing as I don't have a place to offer you, I can't."

"Don't worry about it" Mike said with a smile "you don't owe me any kindness. No one down here does, I guess. Seems I'll just have to take care of myself for a while."

He spoke with confidence in his voice but he honestly had no idea how he was going to get by in this new world. He'd learned about Motorcity in school and while training to be a cadet. The underground city was always presented in a negative light up there. He couldn't expect any nutrition gelatin cubes, and nothing was free. Deluxe always provided everything that was necessary for basic survival at no cost (after taxes of course, but still). Then there were his injuries to consider. In Deluxe he's been hurt plenty of times (which was uncommon for most individuals up there) so pain wasn't an entirely new experience; however, medical aid was always readily available seconds after the damage had been done. He had almost no experience in dealing with bodily trauma; had never expected to need it.

The whir of the squad travel bot could be heard behind them and he turned to see the last of what had once been his troops make their way into the machine. He'd planned on getting to know them and raising the most elite squad in Kane's army. Those were the dreams of a man he no longer was.

A part of him wanted to run after them and beg them to let him back on. Once that bot took off he would never again be able to return to the beautiful world above, exiled forever in this dark and strange territory.

His consciousness and pride kept him planted where he was, watching with fierce defiance as his last chance to turn back hovered in the air for another moment before it rose into the sky till it was only a tiny red dot in the black abyss above them.

He looked away before the dot disappeared. No need to give it some teary-eyed send off.

Again he found himself wanting to take charge and help these people who had just lost their home, and again he was stuck with the realization that they probably had more than he did and would probably be insulted if he tried to take a leadership role.

"You have any advice sir?" Mike asked the elder who had kept silent while the cadet watched his ship sail away, be it out of respect or sympathy.

"Find work" the man replied, though he didn't sound very optimistic and that didn't help Mike's spirit whatsoever. "You need money to buy things and money doesn't grow on trees around here. You have to earn it. No one's handing out anything for free, and the age when there were charitable organizations to take care of the needy has passed. There are still a few churches down here who're looking out for those who come to their doorsteps, but there are so many people going to them who are crippled or orphaned that an able-body lad like yourself might not want to add to their burden."

"No, I wouldn't."

"You're a good kid" the man said with a sad smile "if I'd been your father I would be proud of what you've done today."

"Thanks" Mike said, returning the smile as he thought of his father who'd died a few years back. His eyes found their way back to the crowd of newly-homeless individuals, narrowing in on a mother who was holding an infant in one arm and pulling her daughter closer to herself to keep them warm. It wasn't quite winter yet but a chill was in the air and he knew it would be a miserable night. He needed to get moving while he still could.

Getting up was more of a struggle than he'd expected, his arms aching from the multiple blows of falling debris and even moreso his gaping wound on his side. Another thing he noted was the painful shift of his ribs when he put strain on them, leading him to conclude that a few of them had been broken when the ceiling had landed on him before.

Still, he made it to his feet and hardly wavered when his head spun a bit. Turning back to his new and first real acquaintance of Motorcity, he smiled a genuine smile at the old man.

"The name's Mike Chilton" he said, lifting a hand to the man "and I won't forget the kindness you've shown me sir."

Quickly taking his hand, the elder smiled back with those sad eyes. "You can call me Jeb Sawyer, and thank you son, for reminding me that there are still good men in some of the most surprising places."

With that the ex-cadet turned and made his way directly to the woman with the two children who looked at him curiously. Without pausing he removed his large blue and white jacket and placed it over the babe in her arms. She gazed up at him in surprise, her confused eyes surprisingly beautiful for a woman her age.

"It's going to be a chilly night ma'am" he said with a smile "you'd best keep that little one warm.

She looked down at the large bloodstain covering his left side. It was much more visible now that he was only adorned in his white t-shirt.

"No" she said, though he noted how she cuddled her baby deeper into his large jacket, still very warm from his own body heat. "You'll need it" she argued.

"Ma'am, I've got nothing else I can give to help you people. Don't let me leave with my head hung in shame."

She looked about to cry and he was surprised at how much that touched his heart. A part of him wanted to cry as well so before he let it get to him he quickly arose and made his way out from the group.

"Thank you" he heard her whisper just before he made it out of hearing range.

At that moment, despite what terrible shape his body was in, he felt a great sense of elation. All of those years he'd been training to help people, it was funny to think how sourly those plans had gone. Yet here he was, incredibly happy after simply giving a woman his coat.

As he walked down the dark lonely street leading God knew where, he allowed himself to contemplate why he felt the way he did. He had planned on saving the world from this corrupt dismal place and was going to be the savior to these poor souls down below, yet despite losing that dream in its entirety, he wasn't depressed.

Then it hit him. This wasn't about civil duty or being the most beneficial person to people in need, this was about sacrifice. There was no doubt of his intentions now. He felt he could believe in his objectives now that he'd proved, if only himself, that they were sincere.

Now he stood, having lost everything, feeling he had done what was genuinely right and no matter what consequences that led to, he would face them with a smile.

**TBC…**

_I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. A few more to go to see how Mike survives on his own in Motorcity, and how he comes to know the Burners. _

_Please review :) Since this is a fairly new and unknown series I know the feedback will be scarce so every comment will be much appreciated. _

_Thank you for reading_


	2. Mutt

_Authors Note: My One Piece readers are gonna kill me for updating a fic for another show two days in a row after they have to wait weeks for me to update my other one. I must be on a Motorcity kick cause I'm just dying to write this one. No worries though! The new chapter of Blue, Gold, and Pale is well on its way to being published._

_Also, I was happily surprised to get a few reviews for this fic :D thanks guys! So much!_

**Mutt**

Walking alone on an empty street allows one plenty of time to reflect on their life and, as Mike Chilton took his three hundred and eleventh step, he began to realized that his life was seriously beginning to suck. With no one to talk to and nothing to do other than move one foot in front of the other, all of his injuries came to the forefront of his mind; doubled with his thirst and hunger.

"Not already" he growled, mumbling to himself "I can't be hungry before I even get to the town."

_One thing to ignore at a time_ he thought to himself as he again tried to control his breathing so it wouldn't shift his injured ribs. Breathing was a horrible experience all around, not even counting how it agitated his wounds. The air below Deluxe was polluted and rank in comparison to the untainted oxygen above. He was already beginning to feel sick as he continued to inhale and exhale the tainted atmosphere. Now he was beginning to understand why his comrades decided to wear gas masks every time they came down. Still, he hadn't worn one on his first trek down, feeling that they looked too intimidating and wanting to present himself as friendly.

"Maybe that was a bad idea." He chuckled to himself. He wanted the queasiness to go away very much. If he got any worse he might need to throw up and considering the state of his body he figured that would be a very unpleasant experience.

Casually he brought the collar of his t-shirt up and placed it over his nose and mouth, wincing at the tug of the fabric at his, now dry, injury on his side. He hadn't bothered with it since it was inflicted so the blood had just stayed where it was, sticking to everything it had come in contact with.

So far that independence, faith, whatever that old guy had bragged about wasn't convincing him that living down here was a better alternative.

Still, he was fascinated by what he was seeing. The building they had demolished resided on the outskirts of Motorcity, so the ex-cadet was getting a good view of what could be called the "countryside" of the mecha structure underground. Where he was walking was a lifted bridge that crossed over some abandoned shacks and unkempt yards, some of which had laundry hanging on clotheslines outside. Every once and a while he would spot a stray dog or cat wandering under the streetlamps. Oddly enough he felt he could relate more with them than anyone. They had no home and no companions either.

Suddenly he heard a roar behind him and noted the newly formed shadow of his lanky figure growing on the ground in front of him as an intense light drew closer. Glancing behind he barely managed to jump to the side as an automobile sped by, the driver yelling something about getting off the road, along with some words he wouldn't repeat.

The exhaust from the car puffed into his face, the warm smoke brushing over his chilled arms. He coughed as he inhaled some of the polluted gas, squeezing his eyes shut as the jerking motion shifted his ribs.

"Gah" he choked out, hunching over the guardrail and letting out a few more coughs.

The nausea was fighting its way up and he covered his mouth with his hand, willing his stomach to hold its contents. He needed to keep every bit of nutrition down and didn't particularly want to feel any acidic guck make its way up his throat.

"_Keep it together Chilton_" he thought to himself, steeling his resolve.

Gazing out over the landscape before him, he noted the incredible expanse of Motorcity; the streetlights and massive building structures extending beyond what his eye could see. It was a world of roads, the paved lines crisscrossing over dirt and steel like an intricate pattern of a garment. Along those roads he noted the red and white lights that traversed them, assuming that they were cars.

In Deluxe he'd been taught that automobiles were horrible machines; a creation of the past that used up resources and polluted the air and, from what he'd just experienced, he would have to agree.

Up to that point he, like everyone else above ground, relied on hovercrafts to get around, and they were fueled solely with battery power that was constantly being recharged by the sun. Why did these people refuse to adapt to better technology?

Just as this thought crossed his mind, another vehicle passed behind him. Again he heard the roar of its engine and felt the rumble of its wheels as they propelled the hunk of metal forward at an unsafe speed.

The sound of a thousand tiny explosions under the vehicle's hood blurred together as one loud purr and for a moment the brunette found himself closing his eyes and just soaking in the blaring noise.

It wasn't until the car was out of hearing range that he realized that there was a smile on his face and he broke out of his trance-like state with surprise.

"What was that about" he mumbled to himself as he released his grip on the railing and returned to walking along the road, this time making a point to keep to the side, not wanting to add being hit by a car to his list of troubles.

As he trudged along he found himself longing for another automobile to pass by.

Another hour passed, as well as five other cars. He noted each of these, considering their different shapes and sizes but having no former knowledge on what model or make they were. The anticipation of seeing a new vehicle was a good distraction from his thirst and nausea.

It was when one of his legs buckled under his weight that he realized that he needed a new strategy other than just walking the rest of the way to town. He at least could see the city lights now, but he would venture a guess that it was at least ten miles away. Simply walking just one mile now seemed like an unreasonable feat so he decided to try something else, which to his shame was begging for a ride.

Mike was bold and for the most part fearless, but still the thought of hopping in a car with a stranger who probably hated his guts made him a little anxious. Or was it a hidden desire to actually ride in an automobile to see why they beckoned him so that made his heart pump in anticipation. This reasoning made no sense to him but he couldn't deny it.

It was another ten minutes before the next vehicle drove by. Mike raised the arm opposite of his injured side and waved it, using his large hands to block the glare of the headlights as they drew near. He was surprised when the car slowed beside him and a woman rolled down the window on the passenger's side of the vehicle where he stood. A man was in the driver's seat and leaned over as if to welcome him in. The cadet saw them eye him up and down to be sure he wasn't a threat, both of their gazes locking on his pants which he knew they would recognize as Deluxe military garb. His heart dropped in his chest.

Without another word the window was rolled up and they left him in the dust holding his breath to keep from inhaling their exhaust.

He wasn't expecting any kindness to begin with but for some reason their rejection hit him with a wave of frustration and loneliness that was unusual for him. He was usually pretty good at keeping his spirits up, but this was a new low for him and his eyebrows creased as he struggled to keep from breaking down.

Another two cars passed by without slowing. That didn't help his mood but it hurt less when they didn't give him hope to begin with. One of the cars had, however, enchanted him and kept his mind busy daydreaming about it as he trudged along.

It had been a surprisingly long car that glistened like colored glass under the melted reflection of streetlights above. The purr of its engine was richer and more alluring than any of the cars Mike had heard up to that point and as it faded from view he longed in his soul for the driver to turn around and reconsider. Surely they had enough space in a machine that long to add one more passenger.

It didn't come back and he wouldn't see the car again until several months had passed.

Another hour passed and, after a stumble that almost dropped him on his face, the ex-cadet returned to the railing to support him as he walked.

Not long after this did he hear the sound of a different engine which perked his ears up and drew his attention immediately. Unlike the last one, this automobile had a blaring and offensive rumble under its hood, yet it still called to the brunette. It was the sound of raw power and dependability and he almost drooled with the desire to ride whatever it was.

His heart picked up when the vehicle slowed beside him, revealing itself to be a massive monster truck with wheels thicker and taller than he was. He'd never seen anything like it and he gazed starry-eyed for longer than his dignity should have allowed.

"Hey you!" a voice from the driver's seat called out as the man's head came in to view and he leaned over the empty passenger's side.

Immediately Mike was on edge. The voice was coated with a heavy Southern slang that gave off a tone of hostility. Still he kept a poker-face, not willing to give up on the lovely ride just yet. Gazing up with a smile he saw a kid with a backwards baseball cap on and braces, his long bangs covering one of his eyes to the point where he couldn't even see it.

"Yeah?" He replied to the boy calling him out.

"You look like'n you could use a ride" the driver answered.

"I could" he agreed, though the tone in the other man's voice was still sending off alarms in his head. "I've been hurt and need to get to town to get medical attention."

Three red hologram screens popped up in front of the truck's dashboard which surprised the ex-cadet for he hadn't expected such advanced technology to be built into such crude machinery. The faces of what must have been the driver's friends showed up on the screens, one of them asking "Junior" what was up.

"Boys" the redneck replied in cocky amusement "I just found me that Kane army deserter. Seen him walkin all by his lonesome on I-250 and he waved me down. Seems he needs him a ride."

Again Mike felt tense at the tone in the boy's words. They dripped of mockery.

Catching the hint, the brunette turned and kept walking down the dirty road.

"Hey hey now" Junior taunted as he let his car roll to keep up with Mike's slow trek, "you don't want a ride?"

Mike looked up at him with a frown. "If you're not going to help me, then please continue on your way. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

The redneck laughed loudly, his chortles grating on the ex-cadet's nerves.

"Didj'you think I was gonna lend a helping hand? I mean, you are a hero after all. Savin' all those lives back there. Standin' up for justice. You must be thinkin' you're somethin' special."

Mike kept walking, not looking at the man taunting him.

"Ignorin' me huh?" the kid spat "too high and mighty to mingle with us commoners are ya? Ohhh, you're from Deluxe. You must be so sur'perior' in every way."

"Your words, not mine" Mike said sternly, never taking his eyes off the road before him.

"Well then, let me tell you what I see" Junior scoffed, not liking being talked down too "I see a stray dog of Kane's tryin' to play himself off as a goody-two shoes. You know what you are? A mutt! You ain't got no one to call your own and you can't fool nobody down here that you're one of us!"

The ex-cadet kept walking with no reaction, knowing that to allow an idiot's taunts to get to him would make him just as much of a fool as the offender. There was no point in arguing with someone who had no capability to see reason.

"Bah" the redneck spat again "yer' too yeller to even speak. Well screw you man! Good luck getting to town!" As Junior said his last words he tossed a used cup at the offending hitchhiker, frustrated when the brunette caught it in mid-air before it hit him in the head.

Mike glared up at the kid, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment before stepping on the gas and driving his fantastic machine away, leaving the ex-cadet to deflect the scattered pebbles with his arm.

Now in even more of a sour mood, Mike continued on. He considered how easy it could have been to simply beat the crap out of the brat and steal the car. Even in his injured state he was sure he could have taken the idiot out. Then he'd have himself a way to get around and have enjoyed the pleasure of teaching the kid a lesson the hard way.

That wasn't going to happen though. As low as he'd gone since that morning, he wasn't about to turn criminal. Just the thought of transferring from a cadet in Kane's army to a criminal in Motorcity sounded so ridiculous.

No, he'd die before he harmed others to benefit himself. If he lost everything for it at least he'd go out with some dignity.

Just as he thought this both of his legs buckled, sending him to his knees on the hard concrete below. The nausea remained with him like a clingy girlfriend and he hurt everywhere. Would he be lost before he even got to civilization? Perhaps he'd have to beg at the doorsteps of the nearly-homeless residents under the road he was on.

Glancing down he realized that the beverage cup Junior had thrown at him was still in his hand so, since he wasn't going anywhere at the moment, he popped the lid off to see a few melted ice-cubes floating at the bottom. Tossing sanitary concerns out the window he dumped the remains of the drink into his mouth, savoring the cool liquid as it flowed down his throat. It lasted but a moment before he was again left empty-handed and thirsty.

The glow of a new pair of headlights lit up the road again and he halfheartedly lifted his arm to wave whoever it was down.

This vehicle didn't have the hostile roar of the monster-truck, nor did it have the soothing purr of the limousine, but its rumble was a good one. He looked over to see another truck, but this one just a simple pick-up. There was what looked like another redneck in the driver's seat, leaning over and rolling down his crank windows.

"Kid" he said, his voice rough and Southern as well "if you're hitchhiking, you're doing it wrong."

The tone was nothing like that of the last visitor so Mike responded.

"How's that?"

"Well you've gotta hold out your thumb like so" the older man presented his own thumb as a visual.

"Good to know" he replied with a smile, holding up a thumb.

"You the man they've been talking about who dropped out of Kane's forces?"

Mike hung his head "does everyone know already? You guys have a heck of a grapevine."

"Yeah" the man chuckled "word travels fast around here. Congratulations on being the new source of everyone's gossip."

The brunette was embarrassed when his own chuckle turned into a hacking cough which doubled him over against his will. _So much for dignity._

"You look like you've had a rough time kid" the man stated as a fact. His voice didn't convey much genuine concern but there was something there that reflected kindness. Mike looked up, his eyes begging for some sympathy.

"Can't say I trust you boy, but seeing as how you'll probably become road kill if I leave you here I guess I'll give you a ride. Hop in the back" he said, indicating the bed of the truck.

Mike felt a wave of relief rush over him at the stranger's kindness. Not wanting to waste the man's time, he struggled to his feet hastily. This proved to be a bad decision as a wave of dizziness struck him and he fell back to the ground, sprawled out and coughing from the dirt he'd kicked up from his landing on the filthy roadside.

Quickly he tried to regain his composure and gave getting up another try before the man got annoyed.

Suddenly there were strong hands lifting him by his pits and carrying him from where he'd fallen to the old vehicle nearby. This all was a blur to him and he hardly had the energy to be embarrassed by the treatment before the tailgate was slammed shut and the truck revved.

This brought him back to the present, the rumble of the engine vibrating the entire vehicle and him in it. Placing his hand on the metal below, he found himself closing his eyes again and letting the low growl of the living machine consume him.

**TBC…**

There's a quick update for you :) Mike's having a rough time and it's not about to get any easier. No worries though, we're soon to meet some of our familiar Burners in the near future.

Hope you enjoyed.

Again, any review is super appreciated! I was so pleasantly surprised to get a few early reviews yesterday, which I must say is probably why I got to writing the next chapter so soon.


End file.
